Only a Matter of Time
by MissMune
Summary: Oneshot drabble. No one saw it coming, but they should have known it was only a matter of time.


A/N: Ah, you know, I really don't have much to say about this one. Though, I guess I should be beaten up for writing a oneshot instead of updating my story. … Ah well.

Disclaimer: I don't own Invader ZIM or and corresponding characters. Though, I DO own my own hunger. Man, I'm hungry.

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"And, today," the chipper television reporter said on a, what by the current standards of technology, was an old fashioned television. Then again, the person watching it was rather old-fashioned, though, at a glance, you wouldn't think so. The person in question looked like an average man, somewhere in his mid-twenties, perhaps.

He was not.

This man had not been anywhere near the age of twenty for a long, long time. Of course, no one knew that.

He shifted uncomfortably from where he lay on his living room couch.

Well, _almost_ no one. He wasn't quite sure if an alien bent on taking over Earth exactly counted. The other person, who had known, his sister, had died just recently. The man found it odd, watching his sister age, while he had stayed the same. Strange, indeed.

"Top scientists have announced," the newsman continued, grinning broadly.

Honestly, he had never thought he would have outlived his sister. He always assumed he would end up dead, either because of _her, _herself, or because of that particular alien scum. Yet, he realized, with, in all honestly, _amusement_, that the old frail being that had been his sister a few months ago, was nothing like the demonic child or woman she had been through her life.

For one _he_ had the upper hand. Thanks to his dad.

"An amazing new product!" the drabble on the television continued, fading away from the anchorman, to a large auditorium, with a few scientists on stage.

Yes, it turns out someone _had_ been trying to make a genius super baby, only it wasn't aliens; it was his _father_. It had been a shock to find it out, obviously. He loathed the thought of it, at first. Only at first, only until he realized that he could always be there, to protect Earth.

That alien scum couldn't just _wait_ for him to die. No, this enemy would be staying right where he was for a long, _long_ time.

"Valued team members," a woman, who appeared to be the head scientist said, acknowledging her team of scientists. "Great scientific minds," she turned to the audience, "America," a camera, "The _World_," another camera.

The man shifted again in the cushions of the couch, sniffling. The self proclaimed "Defender of Earth," was currently bed-ridden with the flu. While it would have normally been dangerous to take even a _day_ off from this job, he figured it might be ok to get some rest for today.

After years of studying his arch-nemesis and his stupid home planet, he knew today was probing day. He doubted the moron alien would try anything drastic this day…_maybe_.

"What we are about to show you could undoubtedly be the most important, the most _ground-breaking_ technology ever devised!" the head scientist said, giddily.

The man grunted. He seriously doubted _that_.

The crowd murmured in interest. "Now, what could this _amazing_ technology_ do_, you may ask?" the head scientist continued, looking more business like.

Rolling his eyes, the man sank farther down into his pillow. This was just another ploy for a new way to listen to music, or something _astounding_ like that.

"Imagine, if you will," she said, eyes glimmering with mad passion, "Never having to forget something important." The audience's murmuring grew louder. "Never having to worry about becoming ill." The audience chatter became quieter, and the man could see that a look of mild shock had come over their faces, even, he, himself, seemed a bit surprised.

"Never having to sleep, be tired. Not having to eat," the scientist continued, and the audience silenced, clinging to her every word. The man was, as well, but for a different reason. "And, most of all, quadruple your life expectancy," she finished, waiting from a response from the audience.

Silence – stunned silence.

She smiled. "So, what is this product?" she asked rhetorically. The audience waited, some of them bouncing on their seats, some of them looking as though they were about to fall out of them, entirely.

The scientist didn't say anything; she just continued to stall, for affect. She was waiting for something.

"T-tell us!" some nervous man from the crowd piped up.

That was her cue; she knew that they were ready. That they _needed_ this. With another quick smile at the audience, she snapped her finger, and another, younger scientist appeared behind her, carrying something under a white table-cloth.

The man's brow began to sweat.

Slowly, the scientist moved towards the invention, pulling the cloth off, in a smooth motion. Time seemed to pause for that moment. Everything seemed to stop, for the man, for the audience, for the scientists.

And then, there it was.

A pure white, rounded triangular device. The scientist held it up to show the audience. Silence, a different kind. A disappointed kind.

She perceived this, and muttered something to the younger scientist, and soon he disappeared with the device, behind the woman.

Suddenly, there was a mild look of discomfort on her face, shocking the audience slightly, even more so the horrified man, on the other end of his television.

"A demonstration?" the scientist asked, as though she wasn't expecting this, taking out a scalpel, and making a light cut down her arm. It bled. The audience watched. It still bled. The audience still watched. It stopped, scab forming.

The blood hadn't even bled long enough to cause it to ooze down the arm. It was almost healed.

The man looked as though he was about to be sick.

Gently, the scientist placed the scalpel down, onto her podium. "People of the world, I guarantee you, this invention will change humanity _forever_!"

The audience cheered.


End file.
